the adventures of retirement
The long grass, heavy
with raindrops, far in the mind
from the southern drought.
Maybe a giant northwest to southeast water pipe, and a payment meter halfway along.
Just been watching a well-known TV quiz in which the winners sometimes go home with a four-figure jackpot. Before the final round, contestants say what they would spend the money on if they win. I find these days that I hope the ones who would spend the cash on a CO2-farting mega jet trip are the ones who will lose.
Apologies for the meagreness of recent posts – stuff to do.
I used to be a scout, and we were told to ‘be prepared’, ?coincidentally? the same initials as Baden-Powell (so, a bit of a narcissist maybe). The thought of being prepared for stuff to happen at any point left me a little on edge. But when Jesus (next Sunday’s lectionary, Luke reading) tells his disciples to be prepared, he begins by saying, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” So we can maybe be prepared without being on edge – like a back four that is both concentrating and confident.
Speaking of which, hats off to the England football team, winning for the nation and for women.
Three hills here with; farm,
television mast and church:
body, mind, spirit.
The bouncy castles
subsiding, attendants on
the shambling way home.
Didgeridooing
drainpipe after the downpour;
the summer returns.
The morning’s hot breeze,
waters dry, leaves falling green
from the thirsty trees.
Walking out at dawn,
to a not-so-secret world;-
lots beating the heat.
Teasing us with cloud,
the weather’s still emptying
all the reservoirs.
Unnoticed by most,
stealthily advancing, flu
is taking the birds.
It’s hot everywhere;
there is nowhere anywhere
to go and be cool.
Caves rippled with light,
down by the cold northern sea;
I wish I was there.
Cars, lorries, splitting,
tearing the air with noise; I
don’t want to be here.